There’s one video in particular I keep coming back to. Her landing a beautiful jump in what looks like a competition. The way she smiles after she lands it—not at the crowd, not at the judges, just this small satisfied smirk like she proved something to herself.
I want to see her smile like that in person.
October
I see her at the facility a few times over the next couple weeks but she’s always teaching, laser focused, in the same black practice gear, hair in a tight bun, unsmiling.
I try to bring her a coffee one day when I’m feeling particularly confident and get shot down almost immediately.
But I watch her sometimes when I’m walking past the practice rink and she’s patient with the kids in a way that surprises me. When one little girl falls and starts crying, Juliette crouches down next to her, says something that makes the girl laugh, and helps her back up.
So she’s not cold or mean.
She’s just completely uninterested in me, specifically.
Which somehow actually makes it worse.
Late October,I’m in the lobby between practice sessions, going through my phone, when she walks past with a coffee in hand.
“Hey,” I say before I can stop myself.
She looks over and I see the recognition, then she almost smiles at me. “Hi.”
“Rodriguez. We met a few weeks ago.”
“Yep, I remember.” She stops walking.
Holy shit. It’s happening. She’s actually talking to me. Be cool. Be cool.
“Right.” I stand up, trying to look casual while my brain is screaming she stopped walking, she’s having a conversation. “I just wanted to say, I watched you teach the other day. You’re really good with the kids.”
“Thanks.” Her expression warms up a fraction. “They’re fun. Exhausting, but fun.”
“Yeah, I bet. How long have you been teaching?”
“Couple years.” She shifts her weight, coffee cup in both hands, and for a second she looks like she might actually be enjoying this conversation. “It helps pay for ice time.”
“That’s smart. Ice time’s brutal.” She’s nodding, making eye contact. This is the longest we’ve ever talked. She’s interested. She has to be interested. “Do you—I mean, would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime? Talk about skating, or training, or…”
Her whole body goes still and something flickers across her face before it goes completely blank.
“No thank you.”
Three words. Polite but final. Like a door closing right in my face.
“Okay. Yeah. No problem.” I back up, trying to play it off while my stomach drops. “Sorry for bothering you.”
“You’re not—” She stops then seems to reconsider whatever she was about to say. “I have to go. Class starts soon.”
She walks away faster than necessary, gripping her coffee cup like a lifeline, and I’m left standing there replaying those thirty seconds when I could have sworn the way she looked at me, the way she actually engaged meant something.
Maybe I’m imagining things. Seeing what I want to see.
Or maybe she’s just not interested and that’s it.
November
I don’t see her for a few weeks after that. I stop checking the schedule for when she teaches and don’t look for her in the hallways. I even stop watching her Instagram stories even though she posts new training videos twice a week.
